agony grief suffering pain
by Begga
Summary: agony / grief / suffering / pain - can have different causes. Physical and mental. A journey into the past, on a day of the present that could not have happened more inappropriately. One's agony, suffering and pain are the other's grief. Please be lenient with me - it's my first FF written in english and especially my very first FF in Star Trek: Enterprise.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _As always, all characters and locations include Paramount Pictures and Rick Berman, Brannon Braga, based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. I just came up with something new with them.  
_ **Content:** _agony / grief / suffering / pain - can have different causes. Physical and mental. A journey into the past, on a day of the present that could not have happened more inappropriately. One's agony, suffering and pain are the other's grief. Please be lenient with me - it's my first FF written in english and especially my very first FF in Star Trek: Enterprise._  
 **Rating:** _P16_  
 **Characters:** _Archer, Tucker (Phlox, T'Pol and Shran as supporting characters)_  
 **Category:** _drama, fear, friendship, NONSlash_

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"Are not you well, Captain?" Jonathan Archer sat in his command chair on the bridge and was approached by his science officer Sub-Commander T'Pol. "Captain?". Confused, he looked up. "I ... But ... no ... I'm fine," he answered and picked up the pad again. He did not feel very well, in fact. Slightly feverish and he was feeling sick. Maybe he could not stand something at dinner. But he could still do the last half hour. Until the end of the shift, Sub-Commander T'Pol stole covert glances at her commander, who looked pale from look to miss. Carefully she looked around the bridge for the other crew members. But Alpha Shift's crew was already thinking about the upcoming closing time and was not much concerned with the first officer's concern. No one expected this emotion in the young Vulcan and therefore also paid no attention to her .. The beta layer gradually spun on the bridge. She and Captain Archer were the last to leave the bridge that evening. Archer briefed Malcom Reed, who also spent the night on the bridge duty, briefly what had happened during the day and the flight plans and wanted to say goodbye as usual, that he was always available in urgent cases, as the tactical officer interrupted him. "Sure, sir, but you do not look good, are you sure you do not want to sleep through the night?" "I think Lieutenant Reed is right, Captain, I'll be there if there's something," T'Pol added. Archer nodded weakly and turned to leave the bridge with the science officer. He felt that everything was turning around him. Worse than it was after an exhausting training session in the centrifuge.

In the elevator he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. But the dizziness did not improve, on the contrary, he had the feeling that he was getting worse. "Captain?" He took a deep breath and exhaled to calm his stomach as he opened his eyes again. T'Pol looked worried. Concerned? Was that really concern? He tried to smile. "I probably did not tolerate anything at dinner." T'Pol raised an eyebrow. She did not believe him. "Shall I accompany you to your quarters?" She asked as the elevator stopped on the E-deck. "Thanks, but that's not necessary, Commander Tucker is certainly expecting you for the movie night, good night, Sub-Commander." "Good night, Captain." She replied and remained undecided at the crotch, watching Captain Archer behind. Something was wrong with him. She did not believe in a rotten stomach. The symptoms would have occurred earlier and would have had to show up to Commander Tucker too ... Commander Tucker ... She made her way to Mass where she would undoubtedly find him. If he was okay, he would be most likely to be there. He did not miss a movie night. If he was not there, she would still be able to go to the sickbay or look after him in his quarters. A few minutes later she entered the crowded mess. The film shown today enjoyed great popularity. 

"Commander Tucker, could I speak briefly please?" Slightly annoyed, the chief engineer left his place in the front row, which was seized directly by an ensign. "Sub-Commander, I hope there is something more important than clogged injectors, so I lost my good seat." "It's about the captain." Immediately, any annoyance had left his face. "Jon, what about him?" "I'll get to that first ... I need to know how you're doing first. Have you felt weird since dinner or not healthy? Dizzy under circumstances? Were you sick or feverish?" "No, not at all, why do you ask?" "Come on, I'll explain it to you outside, "she told him, eyes fixed behind him, several crewmembers staring curiously in their direction, trying to hear something. "I noticed for the past four hours that the captain was getting paler. His eyes were feverish and he had noticeable problems concentrating. He dismissed this as a rotten stomach and insisted on finishing the shift. It was also available for nocturnal emergencies. Lieutenant Reed advised him to go to sleep one night. He also seemed to have noticed that Captain Archer was not feeling well. I also felt that he was dizzy as well, as he tried to fix a point while talking to the lieutenant. And just as he was on his way to his quarters, I had the feeling that the ground was moving under his feet. "What are you going to do, maybe he just ruined his stomach?" asked Trip. "I do not think so, the symptoms would have been much earlier and much more violent, I have a guess I would like to pursue, but at the moment I can't say more, otherwise I might make false accusations. I ask you to look for Jonathan Archer, I want to make sure he's okay." The commander nodded in understanding and turned right to walk down the corridor to his best friend's quarters while T'Pol turned left.

T'Pol entered the captain's mess hall, where they had dined just hours earlier - if their suspicions were really confirmed, they were really facing a problem and they hoped they could act in time. She pushed the chairs aside and squatted on the floor. And she actually found it. At the head of the table where the captain was sitting, there were still a few seeds that she had dismissed as sesame during the meal. She'd been a little surprised by how sesame seeds had come aboard the Enterprise. On the other hand, a few days ago they had met with the Kumari, an Andorian ship under the command of their Allies Shran, and also exchanged some food. Nevertheless, she felt uncomfortable, but she did not trust Commander Shran as much as he did Captain the Enterprise did. However, after their people lived at war with the Andorians throughout their lives, this was probably not surprising. With her find she wanted to see Dr. Phlox, the board doctor of the Enterprise, and secure herself. Her duties as first officer included paying attention to the captain and protecting him from dangers as far as she could. He was the most important person on board, even though he cared about the well-being of the crew in front of his own. 

"Sub-Commander, what can I do for you?" She received the Denobulaner with a big smile. "I have some seeds here. Can you tell me what this is? " "Sure, show it off." He went with the grains to his analysis equipment. He put the samples under different equipment and became more and more serious. "Do you know what this is, Doctor?" She asked. The doctor looked up. "At first glance, the seeds look like sesame seeds. Only on closer analysis can one recognize that it concerns the seeds of the castor bean, which contain a poison named Ricin." So she was not wrong with her assumptions. "Ricin? What does that do? How does it work? " "Ricin, as I said, is a substance in the seeds of the castor bean. Already the consumption of eight seeds can be deadly. How do you get the seeds?" She had done the right thing, but she did not like the direction the conversation took. "Deadly? What signs show up in a poisoning?" T'Pol asked without taking the question of the doctor. "Hmmm ... that would be fever, abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, tachycardia, and circulatory collapse ... but those are just a few of the common symptoms that can occur within four to eight hours of consumption. Everyone reacts differently to the poison, and the amount that is ingested is not negligible if you want to determine the exact symptoms." He had just finished his remarks when the doors to the sickbay opened.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Dear Cortana Hansen, thanks for your review and in particular many thanks for the tip with the paragraphs. I hope it's better that way now.**

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Trip hurried down the long corridor to the quarters of his best friend. T'Pol's hints got him something. Especially because she worried so obviously about the Captain. There were a few exhausting days behind the Enterprise and her crew. Maybe this was noticeable now. She sounded as though she did not believe in coincidence. He had reached the quarters and pressed the bell. Trip waited some time and rang again. Still nothing. Maybe Jon had already laid down? He stood indecisively at the door T'Pol seemed very convinced that something was wrong. What if she was right? On the other hand, the captain was actually reasonable enough to visit Phlox, if it was really necessary ... Torn inside, he stepped from one leg to the other. If he were going now, he would not be able to keep his eye on the whole night. He would just take a look at the quarters. Quiet and without arousing his friend. He only hoped that Porthos would not sound an alarm. As soon as he had finished the thought, he heard something in the room. He turned his head and listened more closely. Was that Porthos whining? A yapping made him take a step back. The Beagle was right outside the door and had noticed the visitor.

Trip entered his access code and carefully opened the door, feeling that the little dog had stormed straight out of the quarters. But the dog was nowhere to be seen. "Porthos?" He called and stepped into the room. He looked empty. The bed was still made and the casual clothes were still neatly folded on the bedside table. Maybe the captain had actually gone straight to the doctor? He bent down to Portho's bowl and filled it with dried food. When he turned it off, the beagle came rushing up to him. He yapped twice as if he wanted to invite him to play. "No, not now, Porthos. I still have something to do. Jon would have to come any moment. Lie to your place, Porthos."

But the otherwise obedient dog intensified his efforts. He grabbed the waistband of his pant leg and pulled on it. "Porthos! Out! What's that about? First T'Pol, who behaves so strange and now you too! What's that for?"

The Beagle looked at him with his big eyes and took a few steps backward. "That's good," said the chief engineer, turning to leave. Porthos came up to him again and pulled on his trouser leg again, as if he did not want to let him go. "For heaven's sake, Porthos. What does .. "

He was interrupted by a loud rattle coming from the adjoining bathroom. "Jon?" He called in alarm. He jumped over the dog who was still standing in front of him and walked around the bed and into the bathroom. "Jon?" His friend was curled up on the floor. His face was consumed with pain and shone feverishly. "Jonathan?" Quickly he was at his side and helped him sit up. He had his eyes closed. "Trip?" He whispered weakly. "Jon, I'm with you. What happened? "

" I am ... bad ...". Trip noticed how his friend's skin color changed from white to pale green and lifted the toilet lid. Not a second too early. The chief engineer propped up the captain, who was shaken by convulsions as he vomited. With his left hand he opened the tap on the sink and threw in a few washcloths. He flushed the vomit down the drain and leaned his friend against the cool wall. Then he put his wet rag on his glowing forehead and with the other he cleaned his face. "Jon, we should see that you come to the sick bay."

He helped the captain, who resisted, to his feet and waited until the dizziness had subsided a bit before they made their way to the sick bay.

Commander Tucker supported the almost unconscious Captain as they entered the sick bay. T'Pol hurried to the left side of the captain. "Put him down here", Dr. Phlox told them. The captain looked awful and as soon as he lay he curled up as if he had terrible stomach ache. T'Pol informed the Chief Engineer about her discoveries and the implications that might have while Phlox was examining the Captain. "Commander Tucker, do you know if he vomited?" He acknowledged the question with a nod. "Sub-Commander, you were right with your guess. Good that you acted so fast. He was actually poisoned. First we should take care that he is better. In the meantime, the cook knows about the seeds and has secured them accordingly and until Hoshi Commander has reached Commander Shran, it may still take a while. I need to do a gastric lavage first to drain off as much of the poison as possible. This is not going to be a particularly enjoyable thing, since I can not sedate him, as it is usually done. I do not know if the remedy reacts with the poison and I do not want to give it a try. That would be too dangerous for me. So I could use you for some help. We can actually leave him like that. But please hold him so that he can not move. I have to pass two tubes through the esophagus into his stomach. And that's annoying enough if you're not dealing with nausea and vomiting."

He disappeared into one of the back rooms and came back with a funnel, a double hose, a big bucket and several bottles. He told Tucker and T'Pol how to support the captain so he would not hurt himself and Phlox could do his work, which was unpleasant for all parties. Half an hour later, only clear water ran out of the hose, indicating that the stomach was empty.

Concerned, the Denobulan looked at the captain's vital functions, which were still bad, but at least did not continue to sink. "Now it's time to wait. I can not do much more for him at the moment", he said, waddling away to clear away the paraphernalia. Trip took a rag and washed the captain's sweat from his face. He put another on his forehead to cool it. Trip looked up from his friend and looked at the displays on the monitor, which at the same time made a shrill alarm. At that moment, Phlox came back and pressed a button to turn off the noise. "What does that mean?"

"Oxygen saturation has dropped further. Ricin has the property to destroy the red blood cells. As a result, less oxygen can be absorbed", the doctor replied. He reached into a compartment in the wall behind the biobed and pulled out a breathing mask. "That should bring something. But I will give an infusion and a blood transfusion. Then we can only wait. "

The next few hours dragged like chewing gum and were characterized by waiting, hope and anxiety. T'Pol apologized after some time, as she was now needed as commanding officer on the bridge, while Trip did not leave his friend's side. Phlox advised him to lie down for a few hours, but he refused to leave the sick bay. The Denobulaner thus prepared a biobed so that he at least came to rest for a few hours. But peace was unthinkable. The captain's ratings continued to drop, and Phlox was desperate to make an antidote because conventional methods failed. He gave him high-dose analgesics, further blood transfusions and a solution to restore the electrolyte balance. It came to tachycardia, which he tried using a defibrillator to get a grip. Meanwhile, the fever continued to rise. Jonathan Archer got nothing from all this. He had lost consciousness a few hours ago.

The otherwise optimistic doctor saw the despair. He did not know what he should do and try, as he also had to be careful with the medication. Many medications attacked the stomach even more. And he wanted to prevent that. Although he would not give up and continue his efforts to save the captain, but he was at some point with his Latin at the end.

Every now and then T'Pol looked in on the sick bay to inquire about the condition of the captain. She had told Commander Shran what had happened aboard the Enterprise during their last conversation and came to the station with a message. "I just got in touch with the Kumari and told Commander Shran what the reason for our meeting is. The Commander happened the same a few days ago and wanted to inform us about the wrong delivery. Already one day after the meeting of our two ships. However, only now he has managed to contact the Enterprise. The trader who sold him these seeds sits in the Kumari holding cell. But what is more important at the moment is that Andorians have succeeded in developing an antidote. At maximum warp of both ships we meet in about 2.5 hours. Will the captain manage it by then, Doctor?"

The Vulcan said, looking worriedly at the poor vital signs on the monitor. "I want to be honest with you, Sub-Commander. I do not know. We have had to revive him four times in the last few hours. The fever is immensely high and the oxygen saturation is terribly low. You can also read off the other values. Even if he survives until then, I can not judge what the future holds, whether he may have suffered further damage due to lack of oxygen."

The Denobulan bowed his head. Trip sat in a chair by his friend's side with his back to T'Pol and did not realize what he was feeling. He held the captain's hand and regularly cooled his feverish brow.

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	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later, the captain's condition had not changed. The sick bay doors opened again and the sub-commander came in, accompanied by an Andorian. When his eyes fell on his friend, the blue-skinned man dropped the antennas. He gave Doctor Phlox a vial with a clear liquid. "Per kilogram of body weight 0.1mg", he said, stepping over to the side of the chief engineer with his hand on his shoulder. Phlox nodded and opened a syringe with the antidote. He injected it directly into the carotid artery and took a step back. For a few seemingly endless minutes, nothing happened. First, the oxygen saturation recovered. The antivenin neutralized the proteins that degraded the red blood cells and the blood was gradually enriched with the blood transfusion, while pulse and blood pressure were still elevated, but dropped to a less critical level. "Thank you, Commander Shran."

"Not for that. Allies are there for that. Also, you do not know yet whether it really helps him or whether he will recover. I would like to return to my ship now and sleep for a few hours. You also look like you could use a beanie to sleep. Please let me know if anything changes, otherwise I'll be back tomorrow." With these words he left the sick bay and the Enterprise. The next few hours were more or less uneventful. Phlox had gotten Commander Tucker to rest on the prepared biobed for at least a few hours, as Trip insisted on not leaving his friend's side.

The next morning, Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander Shran again entered the sick bay together. It was a strange sight to see the two, until recently still hostile species peacefully side by side. Together on the bed of the man who brought both peoples closer together and moved to speak with each other diplomatically. "Good morning, Doctor, Commander."

"Good morning, Sub-Commander, Commander Shran",the doctor replied, bringing a tray to the bedside. For her part, T'Pol put one on the bedside table that belonged to Trip's temporary bivouac. "You should have breakfast. Since I do not think you can be persuaded to go to mess, I brought you something."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander", he replied, rubbing his tired eyes. He had lain down for a few hours, on phlox instruction, but it had not been a restful sleep. The unfamiliar sounds and concern for his friend made him fall asleep only briefly and restlessly. T'Pol filled the cup with coffee from a thermos and handed it to him. As he gratefully accepted, his gaze fell on the bed beside his and sadness and anxiety drove the weariness out of his face. "How is he?"

Doctor Phlox looked anxiously at his patient, whose pale skin hardly peeled off the paints. His hair was soaked in sweat and stuck to his sweaty forehead. "To be honest, I'm not sure. The antidote has worked wonderfully as far as the destruction of ricin proteins is concerned. The blood infusion could therefore work well and have enriched the hemoglobin again. And thus also the oxygen saturation could rise. The organs are thus sufficiently supplied with oxygen again. The fever is still very high, as are pulse and blood pressure. There are no more tachycardias. "

The doctor pulled up a syringe and injected it into the access. While exchanging the infusion bags with saline and an electrolyte solution, T'Pol asked, "What are you giving him?"

"An analgesic. It seems that the pain receptors have not yet realized that the proteins are destroyed. Or there's another reason why I can not wean the painkillers yet. I tried this tonight, but he's writhing and screaming in pain like being tortured. The pain has to be very strong as he has a very high pain tolerance compared to others. Commander, did you notice that too? Did you see something similar?"

"No I'm sorry. In general, the reaction was not so violent with us Andorians. Probably because we do not have red blood cells. In the end, it was just like a pretty bad stomach flu accompanied by a high fever. Our doctor noticed that because of its structure, ricin could have a different effect on other species and, because of its confusion with sesame seeds, could possibly lead to death. We then developed the antidote and at the same time tried to contact the Enterprise. We had some difficulties, as I said, in reaching your ship, but this led us to the dealer's track, which interfered with our communication with a disguised ship. The dealer gave very quickly to the seeds deliberately wrongly declared. Why or on whose behalf he acted he did not share. This morning we wanted to continue the interview, but found him in his cell. Death. Poisoned by an overdose of ricin. We probably will not get any answers from him anymore. I'm sorry. However, we downloaded all data from his computer memory. Maybe your communications officer could take a look? Unfortunately, we lack the possibilities to quickly learn a new language. Maybe there's a hint in the logbooks or in the communication files."

"That's a good idea. Ensign Hoshi Sato will be at your disposal. Please contact her on the bridge", said T'Pol. "Lieutenant Malcom Reed may be able to help you as well."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander."

"We have to thank, Commander Shran. Without your help we would not be at this point. "

"Without us you would probably never have gotten into this situation", the Andorian replied with hanging antennas. "It's only logical that we help you."

Commander Tucker got up from his bed and stepped in front of the blue-skinned. "Shran, you have no idea what happened to Captain Archer. Youwere just as deceived. You helped us make things less worse. Even if we do not know at the moment how it will actually end. But one thing is certain: Without your help, Jonathan would most likely already be dead. Help Hoshi analyze the language and translate the files. Maybe that'll keep us going, and we can prevent at least another such case. "

"Come on, Commander. I accompany you to the bridge. Keep us up to date, Doctor." With these words, the Vulcan and the Andorian left the sick bay again. Somewhat lost and helpless, the chief engineer stood beside the bed of his best friend. "You should eat something and maybe take a quick shower. This distracts you for a few minutes and strengthens you for the day. Who knows what's coming up, Trip. "

Three quarters of an hour later, he had eaten the toast and was freshly showered in a clean uniform. On the way from his quarters back to the sick bay he had briefly fed Porthos and also brought fresh clothes for the captain. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to his friend's side. It sat for a good half hour as Jonathan threw himself from one side to the other and a shrill beep made him jump up. Phlox came running too. He glanced at the monitor. "The heart beats too fast and irregular. In conjunction with the other values, everything points to a panic attack." The doctor explained slightly confused.

"But he is unconscious. How can that be, Doctor?" The Denobulan had no answer to that question. How could that be?

Trip took a damp cloth and approached the bed. With one hand he cooled his fevered forehead and sweaty face while he reached for his friend's with his other hand. He quietly spoke to the elders. After a few minutes, the heartbeat calmed down slightly and the captain became a bit calmer overall. "Doctor, maybe we should put something dry on him. Not that he's catching pneumonia or anything like that." His gaze fell on a monitor with general ship data. He noticed a small number in the lower right corner. Could it be?

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	4. Chapter 4

"Um ... Doctor ... do you think it might be possible that we're moving him to his quarters? I have a guess here, and if this was true, I think he would be in better hands, especially because Porthos could then help him there."

Phlox tilted his head and frowned. "What makes you suspect the captain is better off in his quarters than here at the infirmary, Commander? It can certainly be set up. But if I should consider that, then I would like to know why."

Trip nodded in understanding. "I would like to ask that the following stay with us. I do not want anyone to know about it. Also not T'Pol. I think the captain would not be happy to tell you. I had promised him never to tell anyone about it. But I have to tell you about it, maybe to save his life or at least to treat him properly. Even if I have no idea if it brings anything, what I tell you now ..."

"Alright, I'll take it under the medical confidentiality and tell anyone about it. I will not tell Jonathan either. The more I know, the better I can help him", the doctor replied.

Thoughtfully, Trip looked into his friend's chalk-white face and, with calm movements, continued to stroke his thumb over the back of his hand. "You just said it might be a panic attack. That would at least point out everything. I believe that you are right and the fact that you can not sell the painkillers indicates that your assumption is correct. It seems to me to be a kind of protective reaction of his body."

"I do not understand what you want out, Commander. "

"Please answer the following question, Doctor: How much did Jon get from yesterday? From the investigations and from what Commander Shran suspected?"

The doctor frowned thoughtfully. "I can not answer that exactly. But we have to assume the worst and that would be almost everything. He only lost consciousness after the gastric lavage. But that's no explanation for the panic attack or such an enormous response to the analgestics. And what Porthos has to do with it, you have not yet mentioned."

Trip looked up from his friend and into the face of the Denobulan. "What if there's another point that we might want to include ..." He took a deep breath. "Today is the day of his father's death. You know what I mean? What do I want to get out of? He told you that his father died from an incurable disease when he was only 12 years old. "

"Yes, the Clark syndrome, "the doctor interjected. "I agree. He did not recognize his son and wife and suffered unimaginable pain. He never overcame his father's death, even though he had always done so outwardly. - He is totally restless, annoyed and may not even distract with water polo. I do not have to tell you about the nightmares and insomnia, I guess. "

Phlox nodded. "So the sedatives you asked me to do one way or the other were not for you, I suppose?"

"No they were not. There are years, he gets along well with the day. He is then somewhat introverted and keeps away from social activities. Mostly he can distract himself with a climbing tour or a water polo game. In other years he literally breaks up. He does not eat anything, does not drink anything, and makes him even open the door at all requires a lot of patience and empathy. He does not let anyone in and isolates himself. And that makes it even worse. "

" In what way do you mean worse? Some do some rest well, "Phlox noted.

"Rest, yes, not isolation. He lets himself be pulled deeper and deeper by his feelings and stumbles from one panic attack into the next, which in the worst case can only be controlled with medicines. I am the only person he trusts to the point that I can help him through this time. "

He paused and breathed deeply again. "The worst day yet was the 25th anniversary of Starfleet's official commemoration. We really wanted to go together. We had agreed that I should pick him up because I knew how difficult it would be for him. A strange feeling came over me when he did not open the door and decided to use the key I had received for emergencies. His dress uniform was neatly ironed and folded on the dresser and with a look into every room I made sure he was not there. On my tour of his apartment, I noticed that his climbing equipment was missing ... A few hours later I had caught up with him ... He was standing at about 2,500 meters altitude on the edge of a platform on a nearby mountain, where we were already climbing more often. Unsecured ... "He swallowed and as he remembered, goose bumps ran down his spine. Even Phlox became a little paler and joined the chief engineer.

"I stood next to Jon at the abyss and after a long wait and I could be sure that he let himself be touched, I led him from the edge away to the camp. I did not shut my eyes all night and helped him with the panic attacks that were so bad this year that I had never experienced. We found ourselves more than once again at the abyss again. That was the worst thing I ever experienced with him. One or the other year was not without, but it was not a year as bad as that five years ago. "

Phlox nodded in understanding and looked sadly at his patient, who had been seized by a slight tremor. "Then let's go. It would be at least an explanation. I'm sure, according to your reports, he would have to be better in two or three days. "

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	5. Chapter 5

**At this point I would like to thank you for the reviews.**

 _ **Cortana Hansen:**_ **Thank you. I am very glad that you like the story and I am always grateful if constructive criticism leads me to improve my writing style and my English.**

 ** _Acrwdof1_ : I also thank you for your review.  
I only post stories that I have also finished because I find it unfair to the reader, when stories are not completed and you spend a lot of time reading and returning. Thus, it is said that other people come into play, which I will not mention at this point, otherwise I could publish all the chapters.  
I understand the dilemma that you address. It is a difficult situation that can only be understood if you have already found yourself in one of them. Of course, my main characters are not all right when viewed from above. But they do what they think is right at the moment. And I think if you read the next few chapters, you will not agree with it, because others see it as similar and tolerate the behavior of Archer, Tucker and Phlox. I do not see it this way that I give the Vulcans further reasons why people are not yet ready to go into space and go on such a mission. I rather think that the Vulcans can still learn a lot in terms of friendship and support. And Phlox will certainly learn a lot about the people - be it from a medical point of view or from interpersonal points.  
Good that everything does not happen in today's military. Because even there, I think, not all gold is glittering and there are certainly made much worse decisions, as a friend to help. Decisions whose consequences would, in the worst case, affect more than 81 innocent people and 1 dog.  
Since it is a fanfiction - which in turn is based on something that someone has thought up - so it is not real, I do not care what consequences such behavior of the above three persons, in reality or in today Military would have. It is fiction. If I wanted something realistic reading, I would read a biography or newspaper. If I wanted to watch something realistic, I would watch a documentary or the news.  
But since it's not real, I'll write the way I would act, as a human being who has been through a lot himself and would help his friend as Trip Tucker does.**

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

An hour later, Phlox had transferred the vital signs monitor to the desk screen in the Captain's quarters. On the desk, which was usually piled with heaps of reports, were various medications.

Jonathan Archer lay in the big bed and seemed lost. The only one who was happy was Porthos. He jumped onto the bed and curled up beside his master. "I'm back at the sick bay. If something is, call me. But I also keep an eye on his values and come by once an hour. ", said the Denobulan. He turned to leave as the door opened and T'Pol came in. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "It's been proven that patients recover faster in their habitual environment," he said in an explanation to embarrass Trip. "I can also monitor his vital signs and hurry over in 20 seconds. So it does not matter if he's over here or over there. On the contrary, I even believe that Porthos can help with recovery. "

T'Pol was satisfied with the explanation and stated that Hoshi had succeeded in finding a syntax that had already been used to translate some of the data. "If you can manage on my own, I would go with Commander Shran to evaluate the data."

"All right, Sub-Commander. If your help is needed, we will let you know. Otherwise we'll be fine." T'Pol nodded and left the quarters again. Trip waited a few seconds for the door to close behind her.

"Thanks, Doctor."

"Not for that, Commander. I have to thank. If you had not been so open I might not have been able to help him or just wrong. "

"I hope we're doing the right thing. "

"Commander, this is a situation that can not be judged right or wrong. Even if we can not help the captain anymore. There are several factors that we can influence. We can try to reduce the fever, relieve the pain and be there for him and help him through the difficult time. What we can not do is influence the course as soon as it has given up and can not be changed. At this point we can only accompany him and help him to go this last way. But we are not there yet. Did you understand that, Trip? It may not look good, but we have not arrived yet and will do everything we can to stop it! "

Trip tried to smile and nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Come on, I'll explain what I've prepared here for medication. The bags of infusion fluid must be renewed every two hours. We must give the infusions with the analgetics as needed. As much as necessary and as little as possible. And with at least three hours distance. Here are some weaker sedatives. I've also prepared some stronger ones for emergencies, so I'd prefer you to get me to them before we give them in his condition. It must be weighed whether the benefit outweighs. If he wants to drink something that's fine. Small sips and amounts are important. His stomach is still very attacked. Water, lukewarm tea and lukewarm broth are recommended. Trust your intuition, Trip. "

Phlox left the captain's quarters and Trip sat on the couch with a book under a blanket. He could do no more for the moment than to be there for his friend. Maybe he fancied it, but the captain's features seemed more relaxed now that Porthos was beside him. Several hours passed and T'Pol and Shran came by in turn to inquire about the current status. The day went uneventfully and Trip fell asleep for a few hours. Doctor Phlox stopped by every hour and brought something for dinner this time. Silently, Phlox and Trip ate until the younger one, looking at his friend, said: "The nights are always the worst."

"Ummm, now do not paint the devil on the wall. Maybe this morning was the worst. Optimism!"

"Relatively good days have always resulted in nights when I've almost lost him." Phlox put the cutlery aside and tilted his head. "Trip ... I'm reluctant to point out the following. Everything you tell me now and what you told me this morning I will not hear as a doctor. I will record it as your friend and friend of the captain. Because as a doctor, I would be obliged to inform the Starfleet, or more precisely Admiral Forrest, and inform him that the captain is not able to take command of a spaceship. And I do not mean that temporary illness. "Trip nodded. "Thank you."

"Your welcome. I assume the symptoms have gotten worse in recent years and have got worse, especially during this expedition into the expanse?" Trip nodded again. "Yes that's right. Why do you think that? So, how did you find that out? "

" After what you told me, I went over the captain's medical records ... Mainly, it was smaller, insignificant things. But I have some things that I would rate differently under the new circumstances. He has been captured and tortured more than once. He has risked his life more than once to save his crew. Over the years, I have had to remind him several times that he should stop serving to sleep for a few hours. He was generally irritable and suffered from permanent tension, which inevitably leads to sleep problems. I believe that this is not all about panic attacks, even if it works that way ... I believe that this is a form of PTSD that has its origins in the death of its father and that the symptoms are compounded by the experience gained. If my assumption is correct, that would coincide with your statement. "

"Yes, I was able to observe the first symptoms regardless of the date of death. That was shortly after he was brought back by the aquarists and he had spoken before the Xindi Council. It was awful. He did not know what to do anymore. The ship fell apart rather than it flew. Although he had achieved something with the Xindi, but a guilty conscience still plagued him to the Illydians and he had lost so many of his people. And that was the point that left him the most strained. He told himself that he needed to better protect his people. As he thought it would have been his job. I do not even want to think about it ..." He, too, laid the cutlery aside, with which in the last few minutes he had merely pushed the food back and forth.

"He had lost some Crewman during the missions and he mourned each and every one of them. But when he realized he had lost 14, he saw it as a kind of personal guilt, a personal failure to protect his people. He did not blame T'Pol, who was in charge at the time and was not expected to ever be seen alive again. He takes it as his highest duty to protect each and every one of them with their own lives. And that, in his opinion, he did not succeed. He thought he did not deserve to return alive from the suicide mission while 14 young people lost theirs. I'm afraid it's going to get worse this time. "

" Cheer up, Commander. You do not have to go through this time alone. This time I stand by your side. But maybe it will not be that bad this time. "

Phlox stood and cleared the plates on the tray and turned to the surveillance monitor. "The fever has still not dropped. To be honest, that worries me a little bit. 41 ° C should not last so long. That in turn can lead to other problems. Blood pressure and pulse are a bit high for his circumstances, but in view of the circumstances completely fine. Well. I will bring the plates back into the mess, feed my animals and then come here again. Everything will be alright. Optimism!"

oooOOOooo


	6. Chapter 6

_**Dear Cortana Hansen,** thanks for your review. But I'm a bit confused about your first sentence. I did reply on your last review. Maybe you've overseen it? Thanks for your last review. I'm happy about every single one. You said in your last one, that you've been wondering why I've rated this story M. 'Will there be Mature content in the future or something?' I'm not so experienced yet when it comes to rating FF. And I'm never to hundred percent sure what the content of each category. That's why I prefer to do that a bit higher than others might. In particular, to evaluate mental problems, I find hard. That's why I preferred to use 'M'. Mature content in the 'classical' sense will not exist. The story is based only on friendship and is not aimed at Slash._

* * *

Before Phlox left the room he dimmed the light again. Trip reached for the blanket and made himself comfortable on the couch with his people's reports. He read his team's reports from the engine room for a while as he felt he was being watched, and was about to reprimand Porthos, who lay stretched out on his back on his pillow, snoring soundly asleep.

The monitor behind him beeped three times briefly, indicating a change in the captain's vital signs. The heart rate rose. Trip looked over to the bed. Jonathan's eyes fluttered and he was about to wake up. Trip turned the light down a bit and sat on the edge of the bed. "Jon? ... Jonathan ..."

The captain opened his eyes, only to squint them the next moment. His eyes had to get used to the light, even though it was not particularly bright. He blinked several times as Trip turned down the brightness even further. In the background the monitor beeped again. The chief engineer grabbed a damp cloth and dabbed his friend's forehead, which formed beads of sweat. Captain Archer had become accustomed to the lighting and was looking disoriented around the room until his eyes fell on Trip and clung to him. "Trip ..." he whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes and placed a hand on his stomach as if in pain. Trip put his hand on his friend's. "I'm here, Jon. Do you feel any pain? I should tell Phlox that you are awake."

But Jonathan shook his head. "No .. please .. what day is today?"

"Jon, that's not important right now. I call the doctor. You're in pain and your pulse is racing." The captain tried to sit up, but with gentle pressure Trip pushed his friend back into the pillows. "Jon, please lie down." He paused and waited a moment before recovering from the pain. "We have the 9th of November."

The Captain's heart rate and respiratory rate rose. "Jonathan. You have to calm down. I know it's hard, but it's important that you calm down." He also reached for his friend's other hand. "Do you hear? Breathe in ... and slowly recover ... I'll let Phlox know you're awake now. He'll throw me out if I do not do that."

He released one of his friend's hands to press the intercom button and call the doctor. The doctor promised to come in a few minutes, but first had to handle the burns of a crewmember. "It will not be long, Commander. I'll be with you in ten to fifteen minutes. Phlox end."

The chief engineer sat back on the edge of the bed and turned his attention back to his friend. Jon's face was painfully distorted and he held his stomach. Cold sweat mingled with the one from the fever. "Jon, what's going on?"

"My stomach ..", he groaned. Trip reached for a washcloth again and cooled his forehead with it. He reached for the intercom again and called the infirmary. "Commander, I've told you before not even two minutes that I' busy yet a little while here ..." "When the crewman must not necessarily be treated by you, it would be good if you could come IMMEDIATELY." Trip interrupted. The urgent tone made the doctor sit up. "Alright, I'll be right over." "Thank you, Commander Tucker out."

During the brief conversation, Jon had rolled over and curled up to lick the pain. But it did not seem to bring anything or very little. Trip was helplessly sitting beside his friend, and the minute the door opened and the Denobulan came in seemed almost endless. "Trip, what is ..?", he started. His eyes fell on the monitor with the vital signs and flew directly from there to the captain. The chief engineer stood up and made room for the doctor, who also took it directly. "Jon ... Jonathan ... Let me help you ... Did he say anything?"

"No, only that he had abdominal pain." They were agreed that they Jonathan Archer did not say Phlox knew about the death and therefore nothing if the captain said something about Trip to that effect. "Hmmmm yes ... that's not overlooked. Come. Please help me. I have to look at this. This can have different causes."He flipped back the blanket and gently turned the captain on his back. "Jon, look at me. Yes exactly. That's right. Jon, I have to take a look. May I?"

He pushed his arms to one side and the T-shirt up. Carefully he felt his stomach. He touched him only very cautiously with his fingertips and without pressure to exercise, but Jonathan cried out as if the doctor had hit in full force into the stomach. "Shhh, is good ..." He reached for the glowing hands that wanted to prevent the Denobulan from further investigation. "I'm sorry, Jon, but I'm not done yet."

He pulled in an ultrasound machine that scanned the captain's belly and felt more like torturing him than helping him. "Ok, that's enough." Trip exchanged the rag, which was still on his friend's forehead and was now warm. "What's up, Doctor?" He asked. "I'm not sure, Commander. Physically, everything is okay. The stomach is somewhat attacked, but that's not uncommon after gastric lavage and poisoning. Still, the pain should not be so extreme."

The doctor stood up from the edge of the bed and stood in front of the surveillance monitor, while Trip helped his friend to turn on his side and cover him up. The chief engineer got up and went to the adjoining bathroom to fill a hot water bottle, which he then placed under the covers of his friend. Instantly, the captain's features relaxed. Phlox was right. It was nothing physical. The greatest pain came as a psychosomatic concomitant of the panic attack. Puzzled, Phlox looked at the monitor, where the heart rate and respiratory rate returned to normal. "How?"

"A hot water bottle, doctor. It relaxes the muscles and the heat relaxes and calms down. Hot water bottles have always helped, when everything else did not help. Although I'm not a doctor, but I think the painkiller would work, but not eliminate the cause and that should always be the target of medication. Do not worry, he fell asleep." He finished, when the doctor looked alarmed to see the captain. "But not for long. As I said, it will be a long and exhausting night. "

Phlox nodded sadly. "Do you need something? I mean, I know a lot about a lot of illnesses and injuries, and I've got a doctorate in psychology, but more specialized in my species .. I'm afraid I'm not prepared for such a serious case. "

" Neither am I, Phlox. You can not prepare for something like that. Although I have been through one or the other difficult night, but you can not prepare. But the moments are too unpredictable. But I already told you that. We can only respond to what is coming. Which would not hurt, if we had hot water for a hot water bottle, a few towels and a blanket. Everything else ... no idea. Later maybe some warm milk with honey ... "

" Alright. I'll take care of it", the doctor replied. Trip had never seen the Denobulan so discouraged. As a rule, he was the one who encouraged people and reminded them of the optimism that people usually exuded. Trip got up from the bed and stretched. It would be a long night. He cleared the reports and folded the blanket. He would not come to read anyway. There were more important things to take care of. Phlox had left the quarters to look again for the crewman and get the things Trip had asked for. The chief engineer stood with his back to the bed and looked out at the passing stars. He tried to control his fear. He knew what he could possibly face, and in the worst case. And he would not help himself or his friend with panic. He took a deep breath with his eyes closed a few times and then out again, forbidding any negative thoughts. Then he turned to his friend and sat on the edge of the bed. Porthos had also awakened in the meantime and jumped on his lap. The beagle sensed something was in the air. He had a special sense for the state of mind of the two men.

oooOOOooo


	7. Chapter 7

**Cortana Hansen: Thanks for your review and i hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter.**

Trip scratched the dog's ears. The steady movements helped to relax him and Porthos enjoyed the attention he got. When the four-legged friend became restless after a few minutes and wanted to go down to the bed, this could only mean one thing. Jon had woken up and in fact he lay there with his eyes open and looked at his two friends. "Hey", Trip said, "Not so stormy, Porthos." The beagle's already slender body under the captain's hand. "How are you?" The chief engineer asked as he got up and poured lukewarm tea into a glass. "Except for the abdominal pain, I'm fine.", It came quietly from the Captain. He tried to sit up. "And from the dizziness."

"Come on, I'll help you." He propped up his friend so he could sip a few sips. After just a few milliliters, he dropped the glass and leaned heavily against his friend.

"Jon, how are you?"

"That's what I said. Well so far. What happened?" Trip wondered which words were the right ones. Actually, Phlox wanted to answer that question. "The Andorians have been tricked by a dealer. He had sold them seeds of the castor bean instead of sesame. These seeds are highly toxic and already in small quantities. More details can be explained to you by Phlox. Sub-Commander T'Pol is currently working with Ensign Sato and Commander Shran to translate and analyze the dealer's logbooks. In a few hours they will have the first results."

He deliberately kept vague. He had done his duty to tell all truthfully to his captain, but also protected his friend from additional incriminating information. Jon's hand shook as he raised the glass again. His body was very weak. The poisoning and the gastric lavage had been very exhausting. Trip reached for the glass and the hand and helped his friend. "Thanks."

"Not for that, Jon. How are you?" He repeated the question he still had not received an honest answer to, and if he wanted to get one, he had to remain stubborn. "How are you really? We already have two panic attacks behind us. You're not feeling well." He set the glass down on the bedside table and helped his friend lie down. Jon looked at him with startled eyes. "Who?"

"Dr. Phlox has noticed. Nobody else knows." He grabbed the hand that clawed at the blanket and squeezed it. "Jon, look at me. Nobody knows. I'm not breaking my promise, you know that. Phlox has not fallen on his head. He made us one together. Had I not confirmed his guess, he would have treated you wrong and I could not allow that. Do you understand that?" The fingers around the varnish loosened a bit. "Jon, do not make it harder for you than it already is. Phlox is also your friend and may help you better. He has a lot more options." The older man nodded weakly and let the blanket go completely. "Sleep something else. Do not fight against fatigue. I'm with you all the time.", Trip talked to his friend, who always closed his eyes. Jonathan nodded again and fell into a light sleep. Trip covered him again and put a cool rag on his forehead. The fever had still not dropped.

A short time later Jonathan Archer woke up from a nightmare. Breathing heavily, he tried to sit up, feeling like he could not breathe and suffocate. It was like a heavy stone on his chest and prevented him from breathing and getting up. Two cool hands helped him get rid of the blanket and sit up. He was sick and dizzy. Someone was cooling his forehead. His heart was racing and the anxiety grew. He had to get out. Out of the room and into the air, otherwise he would suffocate. Panicking, he tried to break free of the person who held him. From afar he heard someone quietly talking to him. "Jonathan ... Calm down ... It's going to be okay. You just have to calm down."

He was familiar with the voice. He had heard her before. This someone who spoke to him wanted to help him. But he had to get out of here first. The person tightened her grip and put on a mask ... "It's getting better. Breathe slowly and deeply ... And off again…. Slow and deep ... And again ..." While the voice said this over and over again, someone stroked his back reassuringly to emphasize the breathing intervals by touch .. After some time, Jonathan's breathing became calmer and he got better air. He began to perceive his surroundings and realized that he was in his quarters on the Enterprise. Trip sat with him and calmly talked to him and Porthos padded cautiously towards him, then to nestle against him. He reached into the soft fur of the dog. "Trip?"

"I'm here, Jon." He felt his friend take the oxygen mask from him and put a glass of warm tea in his hand and help him to drink a few sips. He shivered as he set the glass down. "We'll change your shirt before you lie down again. That's sweaty wet. Not that you catch pneumonia."

A short time later, Trip had put a few pillows under the captain's torso, so that he could lie relaxed and covered him again. The tremor had not stopped yet. "You had a nightmare", he stated. His friend's gaze was fixed on his beagle, which had rolled up at the foot of it. "Would you like to tell me what you were dreaming about?" Jonathan blushed a bit and shook his head. "You do not need to stay here, Trip. It's already late. You are certainly tired, too. "

" You do not believe that I leave you alone in your condition. You should actually know me. Here is another drink. Phlox will be happy if the fever drops a bit. "

oooOOOooo

Phlox had returned to the sick bay. From there he kept an eye on the captain's vital signs. He would only come if they became life-threatening or Trip would call him. This panic attack had mastered the two well. Unfortunately, through years of experience. The doctor was worried that it would be very difficult again this year. Especially when the captain realized that an unknown dealer was trying to poison him. He had been visited by T'Pol, Hoshi and Shran a few minutes ago. They had been able to translate the files from the logbooks and communication protocols seamlessly. The trader had sold the seeds disguised as a Vulcan to the Andorians, in the hope that war would break out between the two peoples again and the arms trade would again experience a new high season. The dealer had learned that Commander Shran and Captain Archer met more often for commercial purposes, and he took him to poison the entire crew of the Enterprise and Kumari to achieve his real goal on the side of Starfleet: Captain Archer. Without the captain of the Earth Vessel, Vulcans and Andorians would most likely not sit down and talk about the accusations that were in the room. Without Captain Archer, war would break out again. Hoshi had found an additional file - a personal logbook - indicating that the offender was acting alone and on his own responsibility, who was only interested in his profits. Commander Shran had rushed directly to the Kumari after the meeting and wanted to get in touch with the Andorian Imperial Guard, while T'Pol wanted to consult with High Command.

Phlox and Hoshi meanwhile should inform with the Starfleet. Admiral Forrest took the report in dismay and promised to take care of the matter and organize a meeting with Ambassador Soval and Commander Shran. He dismissed Ensign Sato after thanking her for the impeccable work. "How is Jonathan, Doctor?"

"He's recovering. It was very close and we can thank T'Pol for their attention and their swift action. "

" You know I do not mean that. Of course, I will report to her in this regard. But you and I both know that Jon's father died 30 years ago today and that it's not easy for him today. It would not surprise me if it is not at least as bad as it was 5 years ago. "

" You know about it? "The Denobulan asked, slightly surprised. "Yes, of course. I was with Henry Archer long and good friends and have seen Jon grow up. I promised to keep an eye on Jonathan and it breaks my heart every year to see him suffer so much. At least he lets young Charles Tucker approach him. Despite the age difference, he obviously trusts him unconditionally. Take care of them, Phlox. Remind Commander Tucker to think of himself and take a break for a few minutes. "

" I'll look after him, Admiral. I'll take a look at both. I hope that next time we talk in better conditions." Forrest disappeared from the display and Phlox turned to the monitor with the values of the captain. Still unchanged. He went to work where he had worked before visiting T'Pol, Hoshi and Shran. He was just raising Lorazepam in small quantities. He did not hope to use it, but he was better prepared. With a tray he made his way to the Captain's quarters.

oooOOOooo


	8. Chapter 8

_**This Chapter is for Cortana Hansen, who commented every single chapter. Hope you enjoy this last one. Thanks for reading and commenting. Maybe we'll read us in other storys.**_

Commander Tucker sat exhausted on the couch. There were dark shadows under his eyes. The Denobulaner set down the tray and sat down beside him, handing him a glass of iced tea. Thankfully, the younger took it. "I've just talked to Admiral Forrest", the doctor began, bringing the chief engineer up to date. "T'Pol and Shran inform their respective governments. I told them that it would be better to leave the captain alone tonight and report to the sick bay tomorrow morning. How was it here?"

"He woke up twice. Both times he drank a glass of tea. I informed him roughly about what happened. But I do not think he realized what actually happened. He has not noticed much from the whole day. He was shocked that he had already had two panic attacks. I was able to convince him that you had the circumstances together and that I only confirmed it so that you would handle it correctly. A little later, he has come out of a nightmare in another panic attack. He was disoriented and it took a long time for him to recognize me. But it was harmless compared to others. "

" Admiral Forrest also addressed the situation. He and Henry Archer were probably very good friends. He's worried about what happened on the 25th anniversary and does not want to imagine what's going to happen on today's 30th. "

" He's not the only one, Doctor. Both times he did not want to tell me what was going on and send me out and away. He does not even touch Porthos." Phlox nodded in understanding. "In the worst case, I brought a few injections of Lorazepam. It has a sedating, anxiolytic and muscle relaxant effect. It works within one to two minutes for about five to nine hours. If we use it, Jonathan would have no memory for the duration of the effect, but no nightmares or panic attacks. Of course, such a drug also carries a lot of risks and should therefore be used only in extreme emergency. "

" What about the fever? "

" We have to get this somehow without drugs in the handle. All the antipyretic drugs I have on board hit the stomach, which is already attacked anyway. "

The two men looked at the captain, who slept restlessly. "Another nightmare that keeps him trapped. He does not wake up either", said Trip, placing the empty glass on the back of the couch. He got up and changed the washcloth on the captain's forehead. Phlox exhaled with a sigh. He would like to help, but his hands were tied. A situation in which he was rare. But seldom was he feeling so helpless. "Trip, can I help you?" He asked, remembering the words of the admiral. "I do not need it, thank you." His eyes fell on the doctor, who was slumped on the couch. The Denobulan was sorry for the chief engineer. "Hmm ... maybe ... It might sound silly, but I'd like something more comfortable to put on. Could you get that from my quarters? "

" Yes, of course. Come on, Porthos, let's go for a walk. "

A short time later, both came back and Trip exchanged his uniform for a sweatpants and a T-shirt. With a last worried look at the captain whose nightmare seemed to be getting worse, Phlox said goodbye. Trip sat back down on the couch and watched his friend. Jonathan Archer threw himself uneasily from one side to the other and mumbled something incomprehensible to himself. The dream was so deep that he could not wake him up. The chief engineer could do nothing but wait to cool his forehead and change the water in the hot water bottle.

It was just after midnight when the surveillance monitor sounded the alarm. The pulse climbed to over 130 beats per minute and the respiratory rate to almost 50. Trip got up and turned off the sound of the monitor before he turned to his friend. Jonathan's eyes were wide open and there was a blank panic in his face. He breathed flat and superficial, gasping for breath like a fish on dry land. He was wet with sweat again and trembling like aspen leaves. He tried to sit up, but he was too weak and kept sank back into the pillows, then tried again. His skin changed from white to green. Trip walked around the bed and lifted his friend's torso. He moved behind him to support him and still have his hands free. He pulled the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and talked reassuringly to him, but it seemed the captain did not hear him. He pulled the blanket a little tighter around his shoulder to build up some pressure. After about a quarter of an hour, Jonathan began to increase his awareness and reduce the panic attack. "Trip ... I feel sick…"

The commander had just enough time to remove the mask and hold a bowl for him as the rising nausea caused the captain to vomit. Trip wiped his face again. "Thanks ... But I told you to go. I asked you to leave ... ", Jon whispered weakly. "And I told you that I will not leave you alone in this state", the chief engineer retorted. "Please Trip ... and take Porthos with you." He tried to take the mask off again and push Trip away from him, but he was too weak for him to prevail against his friend. "Jonathan, there are two possibilities. Either you let me help you and we go through this together, or I call Phlox now, who injects you with something, so that you sleep through the next eight to twelve hours. In this case, he would have to report that to Admiral Forrest and he will be forced to take you out of command of the Enterprise and this mission. Did you understand that? So you have the choice. Should I still go? "

After a few seconds, the captain sank back against his friend and shook his head. "All right then. Would you like to tell me what you've been dreaming this time?" Trip asked, handing him the oxygen mask to tighten the blanket. The tremor became stronger again. "I ... from my dad ... It was so ... real ... Like back when I was 12 years old.", Jonathan whispered weakly. Tears mingled with the sweat that came from the effort and the fever. Trip knew the nightmares. It was important that Jon talked about it to process the dream. It took a little over two hours to finish. Repeatedly interrupted by seizures in which the captain could not breathe and Trip had to convince him that calm breathing in and out would make the feeling of suffocation disappear. The pulse rises temporarily to over 150 beats per minute and he thought about Phlox to get. He felt that his friend's heart would explode. He wished to free him from his suffering and let him sleep a few hours dreamless, so that he could recover from both the physical and psychological trauma.

After two hours, the elder finished his report and Trip refilled the glass with warm milk and honey. "Thanks ..", the visibly exhausted Captain murmured, leaning his head heavily against his friend's shoulder. "Sleep now. Come on, I'll help you lie down. "

" No .. please .. stay .. "Jon reached for the Commander's with a shaky hand, his eyes dropping over and over again. Trip waited until the captain fell asleep and then got up. He laid the pillows on the side and his friend flat. Porthos cuddled up to a ball curled up to his side. Trip lay down on the other half of the bed and took the hand of the elder, who had fallen into a quiet and peaceful sleep. He also closed his eyes.

It was over once again. His tenacity had paid off.

Until a year.


End file.
